Lessons from a Clay Pot
by Arashi of the Red Scarf
Summary: This is a really odd little oneshot about what human souls and clay pots have in common. Gaaracentric....and it's really short....


Author's Note: sigh I really should be writing my Hellsing fanfiction rather than odd little one-shots. Or doing my science essay. Feh- I'll deal with it later. Anyway, one thing you should know- the female potter in the story has no name (because Gaara never asked and she never told, so you see I can't tell _you_). Caution: this story is really short.

This disclaimer was brought to you by the letters W, T, and F

I own not Naruto, nor any other anime. If I owned Naruto, Haku would have lived and Gaara's older male relatives (excluding Kankuro) would have large bricks dropped on their heads every episode. Heh heh.

**BOOM!**

Thunder crashed and rain began to fall in great sheets. Sabaku no Gaara mentally sighed. He disliked rain for the (very good) reason that sand turns to mud in it. He ducked into the nearest building for shelter, shaking the rain from his shaggy red hair.

The only other person in the small shop was a young woman with long black hair sitting at a pottery wheel, shaping a lump of clay into a plate. She looked up briefly, then inclined her head in a bow and returned her attention to the plate. Gaara momentarily thought she hadn't recognized him, as she hadn't shrank away in fear or disgust like so many did when they caught sight of him.

"Is there anything I can assist you with, Gaara-sama?" So she had recognized him, yet her clear green eyes were not fearful nor repulsed. Suddenly at a loss for words, he waved vaguely at the rain outside the window. She smiled a soft, understanding smile, then put her plate aside. Standing up, she cleaned her hands in a basin of water and bowed properly to him. "I apologize for the clay dust everywhere, my Lord...Would you care for some tea?" Gaara shook his head and tried to move out of her way, but backed into a shelf full of half-dry pots, knocking them to the floor. Several cracked, and one dark red one completely split in two. She bent to gather it up, ignoring his half-muttered apology.

There was silence in the room for some time before she spoke. "Do you know how a human is like my clay pots?" she asked, refilling her bowl with fresh water and sitting back at her wheel. Gaara shook his head, confused. She held up half of the red pot. "It may have broken, but it can be fixed in the hands of the right potter. No matter how badly made or broken, it can always be mended." She dipped her hands in the water and continued. "If a human soul is a clay pot, then my hands would be those of a dear friend or lover, and this water love. Using just that, and perhaps kindness and trust (she held up two clay-shaping tools), any pot can be mended. Maybe the pot wasn't made right by the original potter, and it was deformed. With a dedicated potter, even the most misshapen soul-pot can be fixed." She spun it around the wheel a final time and smiled her delicate smile. "There, you see? I've fixed it." She held up the pot and Gaara nodded, still somewhat confused. She glanced an him, then worked the symbol for 'love' into the soft clay. "There, now. I'll just set that aside to dry. Are you sure you wouldn't like something to drink?" Finally finding his voice, he answered hesitantly, "I- think...tea would be nice." She smiled again. "Coming right up!"

A few hours later, they were still sitting, having consumed a full pot of rice tea and some onigiri she'd had for her lunch. "Oh- look! It's stopped raining!" True enough, the clouds had disappeared and the sun was out in full force. She smiled. "I think I'll go buy myself some lunch. Here, you keep this pot." She handed him the red "Love" pot and opened the door. "Sayonara, my Lord. I hope you find the right potter for your cracked soul." He blinked in shock, and in that moment she hurried past him, humming a soft song. In a minute, she'd all but disappeared into the bustling crowds in the marketplace.

SLAM

Temari looked up in surprise from the magazine she was reading. "Oi, Gaara-kun, how was your walk? And...why do you have a clay pot?" Gaara mumbled something about his soul and headed to his room. Temari stared after him, confused. She didn't think she'd ever understand her little brother.

Author's Note part II: Gyeh, it's even shorter than I'd wanted it to be...oh well. Reviews are most appreciated- I like knowing people like my work. Heck, I don't care if you like it- I just wanna know if you read it. Also- I have no idea if it rains where Gaara lives- it is the desert, right? Oh well. Rice tea is a tea made with boiled rice and green tea. It's pretty good. Onigiri- rice balls. Oh, and if you can tell me where that "and so you see I can't tell _you_" quote comes from, you will be rewarded handsomely with a lovely little set of Gaara plushies.

Ja ne-

Mega-Doomer-chan


End file.
